The Splinter
by Alys Blue
Summary: <html><head></head>The Champion of Kirkwall gets a splinter in an unusual place, and Isabela is instrumental in inflicting it.</html>


**AN: First DA fic! Yay! Okay, so this is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for any and all mistakes. It's not really too explicit, but it's rated M to be safe. Please review, as I can always use constructive criticism. **

**AN2: I just read through this the other day and realized I spelled Isabela's name wrong throughout the entire thing, so I went through it and fixed it because it irritated me so much. (: **

The Hawke estate was quiet, almost maddeningly so. Marian Hawke sat at her desk, slowly rifling through the immense stack of papers set in front of her, letting out a weary sigh every few minutes as her eyes began to blur with the effort of staying conscious. She ran a long-fingered hand through her messy ear-length black hair, rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, and laid her head down atop the desk in exasperation, unsettling papers and sending them floating slowly to the ground in the process.

Marian desperately missed the noise of Lowtown. She missed the bustle, she missed the dirt and dust, she missed the freedom of having no obligations but to herself and her family, she missed Bethany and Mother, hell she even missed her deadbeat Uncle Gamlen. But somehow, the person she missed most was the very one that had always irritated her mercilessly while living in that dump in Lowtown, and that was none other than Isabela, that saucy slut of a pirate who could never get enough amusement out of making Hawke embarrassed and uncomfortable.

It wasn't that Hawke hadn't...experimented while in Lothering. She had, but her kind of experimentation seemed infinitely innocent compared to the activities Isabela luridly whispered in her ear every time Hawke had found some measure of comfort and ease with her company. And every time Isabela did this, Hawke would shove her away with a scowl and a good-natured, "Keep your diseases to yourself", not because she didn't find the pirate attractive (because Maker, was Isabela irresistibly sexy), but because every time the tan-skinned woman touched her, or spoke, or breathed a bit too close to her skin for comfort, a spike of fear and adrenaline and Maker knows what else would jolt through her stomach, and she would instinctively pull away.

"I need to get laid," she mumbled to no one in particular, raising her head and settling her chin atop her hands.

"Well that can certainly be arranged, sweet thing."

Hawke jumped at the sudden intrusion of the Rivaini's voice. She whipped her head around to find Isabella sauntering into the main room from the hallway, her hands swinging slightly at her sides, and a smirk that exuded unrestrained sexuality making the corners of her lips tilt up seductively. "Isabela!" she exclaimed. "Andraste's tits, you scared me!"

"Did I really?" Isabela cocked her head to the side. "I'm so very sorry, Hawkey," she cooed. "Would you rather I go back outside and knock on the door instead?"

"Yes...No...Gah!" Hawke put her face in her hands and sighed. "How did you even get in?" she asked after taking a moment of silence to compose herself. "I'm sure I locked the doors when I got back..."

"Oh don't fret, sweet thing, you did. I picked the locks." That smirk again. "It was relatively easy. I suggest purchasing a new one."

"Yes, I should," Hawke murmured. "Maybe it would keep YOU out."

"Aw, did the big bad pirate frighten wittle Hawkey? Come here, baby, Isabela will make it better."

The Rivaini bent down and wrapped her long arms around the slightly smaller, seated form of her fellow rogue, tucking Hawke's head beneath her chin and rocking her mockingly back and forth like a small child. Hawke attempted to detach the pirate from her, but Isabela refused to loosen her hold. She slowly lowered her mouth from the top of the other woman's head to her neck, smiling against the sensitive flesh there when she felt Hawke tense up.

"I don't know why you fight it, sweetness," she whispered sultrily against the other woman's skin, the feel of her warm breath making Hawke shiver. "I know you want it as badly as I do."

"I-" Hawke began, but she lost her train of thought as Isabela began to trail soft kisses across her collarbone, then up her neck, and over her jaw, until she finally reached Hawke's heart-shaped lips.

Isabela lingered there, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You...what, sweet thing?" she breathed against Hawke's own slightly parted lips.

Hawke's eyebrows drew together in frustration, and she quickly closed the slight distance between her and Isabela, roughly pressing their lips together.

After a brief battle for dominance which resulted in the two of them tangled together on the ground, the victor, Isabela, ran her hands underneath Hawke's light night robe, up the backs of her thighs, and grasped them tight as she stood up, picking Marian up with her.

The rogue protested weakly, but Isabela shushed her with a deep kiss as she slid Hawke on to the desk, scattering the Champion's already disorganized paperwork until the wooden surface was bare save for a lamp and Hawke herself, who sat on the edge of the desk with the pirate wedged between her legs. Isabela pressed against the other woman's core, causing Hawke squirm and try to slide forward to increase the pressure.

The two were beginning to lose themselves completely in each other, both of them pressing closer together, their touches becoming more frantic, when suddenly Hawke jerked away from Isabela and let loose a bloodcurdling screech.

Isabela was taken aback. She distanced herself a bit from Hawke, who still sat on the desk, her legs dangling, not touching the floor. She clutched at her backside, tears in the corners of her eyes.

"If you really didn't want to, love, you just had to tell me. This reaction is unnecessary..."

"That's not it, you stupid whore," she cried, her voice breaking on the word, 'whore'. "I... I think I have a splinter."

Isabela chuckled. "A splinter? Mighty Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, vanquisher of all who stand her way, cries when she gets a splinter? Varric'll love this"

"You can't tell him!" Hawke squeaked. "And it's in a sensitive place, alright!" She gingerly stood and rubbed her right ass cheek. "Now, you got me into the mess, so you have to help me out of it."

Isabela sighed. "Alright. I suppose there could be worse situations I could be helping you out of...such as one involving rashes and itchy genitalia..."

"Isabela!"

"Alright, alright. Bend your sweet ass over that desk so I can get a good look at what we're dealing with."

Hawke frowned but did as she was told, and the pirate pulled up the Champion's nightgown so the small red dot where Hawke had supposedly acquired a splinter was visible to Isabela. First, she attempted to pull the tiny piece of wood out with her fingernails, but that proved unsuccessful, and Hawke's tendency to yelp and jump forward every time Isabela felt as though she were getting somewhere certainly hindered the effort.

Irritated and impatient, Isabela swatted Marian's ass somewhat harder than she initially meant to, but ignored the rogue's cry of indignation. "Dammit, Hawke, stay still and let me work my magic."

"Your magic is what caused this in the first place," Hawke grumbled in response as she felt Isabela's fingers once again start to pinch and pull at the tender area on her backside.

"Yes, and you enjoyed every second of it, darling," Isabela replied, her smile evident in her tone of voice.

Hawke remained silent until she felt Isabela's hands leave her body and heard the sound of a blade being drawn behind her. Alarmed, she tried to turn around, but Isabela placed a firm hand between the rogue's shoulder blades and shoved her down until her stomach was flat against the desk. "Don't look, it'll only frighten you."

"Like that is sooo reassuring," Hawke muttered, almost unintelligible because her cheek was pressed so hard against the wood surface of the desk.

"Shush, sweet thing."

Hawke felt something sharp against her skin, and then a stinging pain, and she heard Isabella's triumphant exclamation of, "Finally!"

"Is it out?"

"Not quite yet, but we're nearly there."

The Rivaini worked at it for another half minute in silence before both women were startled to hear the sound of the front door opening, and then the excited voices of Bodahn, Sandal, and Merrill, who had evidently accompanied the father and son home from the market.

"Balls!" Isabela exclaimed, but before either she or Hawke could even attempt to make their situation appear less compromising, the trio emerged in the hallway, all three gasping and then falling into silence at the sight of Isabela hovering over their Champion's bare ass with a dagger in her right hand.

"What-" Merrill began, but Hawke cut her off before her and Isabela began a conversation she would rather not witness.

"It's a long story, Merrill, one that I'd rather not share at the moment." She stood up, brushed herself off regally, and looked pointedly at Isabella. "Thank you for helping me with my...injuries, Isabela. You may leave now, if you wish."

Isabella's face broke into a grin as she began to slowly, sensually stalk towards the front door, the diminutive elf who had been staring confusedly at the two of them in tow. "No problem, sweetness. If you ever need my _help _again," Here she graced Hawke with one of her famed winks. "All you need to do is ask."


End file.
